


until you reach the other side

by storiesofdistantstars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), No Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesofdistantstars/pseuds/storiesofdistantstars
Summary: Before they're deployed with their new battalions, two Jedi-turned-Generals say goodbye.
Relationships: Original Jedi Character(s) & Original Jedi Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	until you reach the other side

**Author's Note:**

> Dawn and Tyren are two of my OCs, and more about them can be found on my Tumblr under the same username. This fic takes place at the very beginning of the war, just after AOTC.  
> Title is from Mars by Sleeping At Last.

Dawn’s lightsabers were heavy on her belt as she started to pack.

They weren’t _physically_ heavy, she supposed, the same deceptively-light cylinders of metal that they always were, but they felt heavy, when she thought about what they’d be used for. What they were going to be used for soon, assuming nothing went wrong.

Nothing go wrong. She nearly laughed to herself at that. Things had _already_ gone wrong, considering the circumstances. Considering that she was going to be living on a cruiser indefinitely, commanding a battalion in a _war._ She was still a fairly-green Knight, as far as those things went- she could handle herself on a mission just fine, and she’d been operating independent from Master Tyren for five years now, but she wasn’t trained in military operations. And more importantly, she was a _Jedi._ Not a soldier. She had never been a soldier, didn’t want to be, let alone a General.

She sighed, shoving her hair out of her face. What was the council _thinking?_ What was the _Senate_ thinking?

It wasn’t like she could do anything about it now, she reminded herself. She had people depending on her, so she’d better learn how to command troops fast, so she didn’t get people killed.

And in the meantime, she’d better finish packing.

Dawn didn’t actually have all that much to take- she might have more personal belongings than the more traditional Jedi, but she wasn’t materialistic, and there wasn’t too much that she could safely take on a ship. Also, her Knight’s quarters were _tiny._ Smaller than what she’d had as a Padawan, even, although that had been shared with Master Tyren. 

All in all, it didn’t take that long to pack everything she knew she needed to take. Necessities first, obviously. Then smaller things, lightsaber maintenance kit, the rags she used to keep her boots clean, the ribbons she used for her hair. Tea that Tyren had given her, a kettle- and caf, too, although he would sigh at her if he knew she drank it. Master Tyren had… _opinions_ on caf.

She lingered over the datapad which held her photos of her little family, and her friends, then plugged in a datachip. She’d make backups, then take them with her.

Someone knocked lightly on the doorframe, and she looked up. Tyren was standing in the open door, hair pleated neatly back from his face. He was smiling at her, but there was something profoundly sad in his green eyes. She knew why. He, too, was unsure of the path ahead of them.

Dawn smiled. “Master Tyren.”

“When are you leaving?” he asked, and no matter his misgivings, his low voice was steady.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said. “The newly-assembled 334th and I ship out for the Mid Rim then.”

“Make sure you say goodbye to Dess,” Tyren advised. “If you don’t you will be receiving a very angry comm before you even make it to your assignment, I’m afraid.”

Dawn laughed, the sound too loud in the near-deserted wing of the Temple. “I’ll make sure I track him down.”

They fell silent for a moment, and Dawn asked hesitantly, “You and Keva?”

Tyren heaved a heavy, tired sigh, and the sound dug at something in her chest. “We leave a week from now.”

“Which battalion?” she asked.

“The 411th.”

Dawn hesitated again, then admitted, “I don’t like this, Tyren.”

He massaged the fingers of his left hand, grimacing as old aches made themselves known. “Which part?”

Dawn sighed, leaning back against her now-bare desk. “I- we’re _Jedi,_ Master. Peacekeepers. We’re not soldiers, or Generals, and we’re meant to serve the _galaxy,_ not just the interests of the Republic, no matter how much the Senate likes to forget that. This isn’t what the Order should be.”

Her master stepped fully into the small room, coming to face her. “I agree with you, Dawn. In truth, I dislike the direction the Jedi are taking. Still, I’m afraid we don’t particularly have a choice, with the pressure the Senate’s been putting on the Council to accept. In this case, I believe it’s the lesser evil for us to do what is asked of us- we _will_ be saving lives. And on a more individual level, you and I know that we will, at least, be kind to our troops, and be cautious with their lives. If we refuse, there’s no guarantee that our replacements would do so. And if we refuse, we lose any leverage we would have had to give them something better, or make ourselves heard. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Dawn agreed immediately. “But… I honestly think the Jedi are unequipped for the kind of conflict this is going to become. We don’t get trained in commanding armies. People are going to die, Master, the troopers and Jedi.”

Tyren sighed, and for a moment he looked terribly tired. “I know.”

Dawn brushed her hair out of her face, and Tyren stepped forwards, picking up one of the lavender ribbons lying on her desk. He gestured for her to turn around, then separated her hair gently.

The room was silent for a moment, Tyren’s fingers sliding through her hair as he braided it, hands warm against her neck. He tied off the braid, then sighed, rubbing at his fingers with a grimace.

Dawn frowned. “Are your hands bothering you?”

He smiled, but she could feel the faint ache and pins-and-needles sensation through their old training bond. “It’s nothing, just the same old injury. I won’t bother the Healers with it.”

“Get Keva to practice on you,” she advised. “It’ll give him a bit of healing practice with something other than a one-time injury and make your hands hurt less. And put on your gloves.”

Tyren laughed. “When did you turn into the one taking care of me?”

“It’s been years, you’re only noticing now?” she said dryly. They both laughed for a moment, a bit of lightness filling her chest, before it faded.

Her Master set his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “Stay safe, Dawn.” He held up a hand before she could speak. “I am asking for no guarantees or promises. We both know that’s not something you can keep, not in a war like this. But I want to see you again, my padawan, and not on a pyre.”

Dawn held his gaze, curling her hands around his wrists. “I’ll try. You stay safe too, Master. Keva’s not the only one who still needs you.”

His grip tightened, just slightly. “Speaking of Keva- if something does happen to me-”

“Dess and I will look after him,” Dawn said immediately. “That is a promise I _will_ make.”

“Thank you,” Tyren said, shoulders relaxing marginally. “I will do my very best to make sure you never have to fulfil that promise.”

“Thank you,” Dawn whispered, throat suddenly tight. She was leaving tomorrow, leaving for Force only knew how long, and he was leaving in a week, and they might never see each other again.

Master Tyren looked at her for another long moment, then kissed her forehead lightly and pulled her into a hug. She clung to him briefly, memorizing the way it felt, and then they both let go.

“Be brave, little one,” he said quietly. “War takes things from all of us. Don’t let it break you.”

He stepped back, and they stayed frozen for a long moment, emotion thick in her throat as she stared at him, the man who raised her, the man who had taught her _everything_ that mattered. The man she couldn’t help but be afraid for.

“I believe that we’ll see each other again,” Tyren said, voice voice full of quiet certainty. “Now, go find your brothers. I’ll be waiting.”

Dawn squeezed his hand briefly, then walked away, footsteps quiet, leaving her father behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated! Come say hi on my Tumblr @storiesofdistantstars!


End file.
